I'm Not Feeding my Children Anymore.

All right Zoo fans.  Name one hobby that I truly love.  Writing - yes, but that's not the one I'm talking about.

Cooking.  How many bajillions of Wordless Wednesday's have been dedicated to food creations?  How many times have I blogged about baking or cooking or creating new meals?  I really do love to cook.  And of corse I'll continue to cook.  I'm just not feeding my family any more.

See there's a difference between cooking and feeding my family.  Cooking involves chopping, dicing, fileting, sauteeing, broasting, marinading, grilling, and searing.  Cooking means savoring aromas of fresh herbs, breathing in the sharpness of onions and garlics, and tuning in to the sizzle of the butter in a hot skillet.  Cooking can be done slowly while sipping a glass of wine and nibbling on the scraps of hard cheese that fall by the wayside of the cutting board.  The Three Tenors can keep you company in the kitchen and coax smoothness out of the sharpest combinations.  Cooking is relaxing and comforting.

Then I remove my lovingly prepared meal and I place it on the dining room table amidst the bouquets and neat place settings.  I call the family to the table.  This is where it goes from cooking a lovely meal to feeding my brood.

"But I don't like peppers." 

"These aren't the kind of noodles I like."
"You know I don't eat squash."

"Can I have a drink to wash this down?"

"I'm going to pretend to be a race car at the table now."
"Yeah, well, I'm going to scream all through dinner."
"Is it time for dessert yet?"
"Mom!  He's looking at me!"

I've decided that I'm not feeding them any more.  I will cook and they can come and get it.  But I will not be present.  I'm going to be out on the deck with Pavoratti.  Who cares if it's still 96 degrees at 9 PM?  At least I'll be able to dine.